


we had nothing before us.

by SirenSong



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 15:52:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13170168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirenSong/pseuds/SirenSong
Summary: Some nights she wakes up and he’s looking at them. His optics are wide and full of love and fear and worry. There’s a glazed quality to them however. The lights are on and nobody’s home.( Or how the couple spends their nights in the aftermath of many, many things. )





	we had nothing before us.

**Author's Note:**

> **Pairings** : Rodimus/Human Reader, Female Pronouns.
> 
>  **Warnings** : _Sadness_.
> 
>  **General Notes** : Based and adapted on a roleplay session with a friend, more or less translated to be a reader-insert story with (many, many) personal original character references removed or altered. There are multiple references to the events that take place in MTMTE Issue #29 - World, Shut Your Mouth Part 2: Words Hang in the Air, Issue #30 - World, Shut Your Mouth Part 3: Predestination: A Beginner’s Guide, and the events of Dark Cybertron.
> 
>  **Current Notes** : ‘I should really finish a fic of mine before working on something else,’ I say aloud while I open another document to bang out a quick new story.

Sometimes she wakes up and he’s fast asleep.

In the darkness of their habsuite, it gives her time to really look at Rodimus. Her Rodimus. The Rodimus she fell in love with all those years ago.

She stares up at that peaceful face that lies next to her and she wonders when was the last time Rodimus looked that peaceful, that happy.

Her brain struggles to wrack up an instance and finds it depressing it seems.

Six months ago.

Its been a strange half a year for them all but its obvious that Rodimus is taking the events poorly. It hurts, she admits to herself in the quiet hours and stifling silence. It hurts to see him regress, to slide back into bad habits and poor routines. It hurts to have Ultra Magnus once again beg them to intervene and to have Megatron, of all mechs, to criticise Rodimus’ behaviour. Its hurts to know that there’s not much they can do.

She reaches out and tugs his palm upwards, gentle as they can be. Unfurling the digits, they are greeted by the damning _89/101_ etched across his palm. They make a note to bring up the possibility of seeing Ratchet for this tomorrow. Maybe they should suggest First Aid instead, if only to draw that ‘bot out from his own personal demons.

Funny how six months ago everyone was riding high on saving the literal universe. She wonders when that had changed, when things began to feel more perilous than those early days of the Lost Light’s adventures.

Her brain struggles to wrack up an instance and finds it depressing that it can’t.

Closing their eyes, they sigh a quiet sight and press their lips against the marks.

———————————————————————————

Sometimes she wakes up and he’s no longer in bed.

This doesn’t happen often but its happened enough times that there’s a routine to it now:

“What are you doing?” She’ll ask while she rubs her eyes, trying to chase away the sleep that lingers.

“I’m thinking,” Rodimus will reply, not bothering to look behind him even as she slips from the berth and walks towards the desk he’s covered with blueprints and schematics. There’ll always be a worrying amount of static that laces his words. His vocoder will glitch out every few words, forcing him to reset it in the middle of a sentence. “I’ve been looking over some of my old plans and I-”

Its futile and yet they’ll always try to stop him before it begins. She’ll reach out and lay a hand on his arm, trying to be comforting as possible. She’ll try not to feel hurt when he jerks his arm away. “Rodimus, please. You couldn’t have done anything else, Rodimus.” She’ll look at anything that isn’t his shaking frame. The blueprints. The FMD chip wired onto his neck. The long, long shadows they both cast in the suite. “Nyon… Nyon fell. It happened.”

“I know that. I’ve accepted it.” They both know its a lie and they both don’t say anything about it. That’s another routine for another night. Rodimus then plows on, speaking faster and faster while pointing at seemingly random points of Nyon. Except they’re not random. They know they’re not because he’s been looking at them, agonising over them ever since he pressed that button. “See here? The shopping district? If I had wired this charger to this level instead of being lazy, it could have gone down in 14 clicks instead of 27 clicks. 14 clicks! I could have made it quicker for them. Made it faster, made it less painful. I-”

All she can do at that point is stay by his side and wrap her arms around his waist to let him know she’s here with him. 

It never works and she tries all the same.

———————————————————————————

Some nights she wakes up and he’s looking at them. His optics are wide and full of love and fear and worry. There’s a glazed quality to them however. The lights are on and nobody’s home.

Before they can ask him a question, Rodimus beats them to it. His voice is filled with shame and for a good reason. Considering what he’s asking them:

“What was your vote?”

She blinks at him and wonders what she should feel first: Anger or hurt.

“I voted for you,” she answers, the words coming out easy as breathing. She wants to reach out for him and wonders if he’ll let her. “I wanted you to remain captain. You deserved a second chance to prove yourself to the others. I wanted to support you. I voted for you. I swear.”

It comes to her so easily, those words and reasons. It sounds so passionate and convincing. It sounds like the truth.

He stares at them and says nothing. It makes her stomach twist and churn.

“Do you believe me?” she asks. _Do you trust me?_ she’ll never add.

This is where he breaks eye contact with her. It takes all her strength to not cry at that point.

“Yes. No.” Rodimus suddenly turns and the liaison is left staring at his spoiler, the winglets straining low in fear and shame. “I’m not sure anymore. I’m sorry.”

———————————————————————————

Sometimes she wakes up and he’s turned away from her.

He’s crying.

Rodimus is trying his best to stay quiet and he’s failing miserably with his little hiccups and sniffles, his shakes and shivers. He’s always trying his best and he’s failing miserably. Perhaps that’s what makes him so pathetic and tragic in the eyes of so many. Perhaps that’s why she fell in love with him in the first place. Perhaps that’s why he’ll never win.

She knows she should reach out to him. Comfort him. Let him know that she’s there for him through the best of times and the worst of times, through belief and incredulity, through the times of light and the times of darkness, through the peak of hope and the nadir of despair; she should let him that everything and nothing before them will stand in their way and that’s okay. Long as they have each other than anything is possible.

Except she doesn’t do that.

Instead she closes her eyes and pretends to be asleep.

( The next morning, Rodimus makes a point to be extra affectionate to her. He laughs and smiles and jokes about, talking about all the pranks he’s going to pull on Megs and how he’s got a fool proof plan to get Ultra Magnus to stop asking him such difficult questions.

He gives her a peck on the cheek before he hurries out of their habsuite, shouting out a (hopefully) sincere I love you as he disappears for the rest of the day.

She stands there, paralysed, with a hand pressed against her cheek.

The kiss burns against her skin. For some reason it makes her think of the damning _89/101_ etched across his palm. She wonders what the says about him or her. )

**Author's Note:**

> You can hit me up on [my regular Tumblr account](https://alyonian.tumblr.com/), [NSFW TF Tumblr account](https://starschemer.tumblr.com/), and/or [Twitter account](https://twitter.com/withersake) if you want more sad robots.


End file.
